


It's Dark and We're Wearing Sunglasses

by NancyBrown



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Family, Gen, Post-Episode: s01e09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 00:14:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1919484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NancyBrown/pseuds/NancyBrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abbie and Jenny at Thanksgiving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Dark and We're Wearing Sunglasses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merryghoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryghoul/gifts).



> With thanks to J for the beta notes and for Ichabod versus the thing.

The burnt turkey wasn't bad, but Abbie can only make it halfway through one slice of the gluten-free pie before she's out. Jenny's too busy busting on Crane, in that half-sussing out, half-friendly way she's got, and doesn't notice Abbie's napkin flop over to cover the pumpkin-y remains. Jenny may have done time in several foster homes, but Abbie only needs to learn something once to have it stick. That's a big reason why she had one foster home. One and done.

Spending Thanksgiving with the Losers Club isn't half bad. Irving is far less uptight with his mouth full of mashed potatoes. Crane's in his element complaining about how wrong modern day Americans have got the whole holiday. If he's hurting, and she's positive he is, he's covering well. Jenny's always hurting, Abbie is well aware. Instead of complaining, she's reacting by striking out, testing her boundaries against Crane's bizarre charms. It's amusing to watch, like a game with two feuding players who obviously respect each other but who have no problems with knocking one home at every opportunity.

When the food's done, and the chat has wound down, Crane volunteers himself and Irving for the washing up. That's not a bad idea right up until Crane almost loses his hand to the garbage disposal. Irving's expression is not even disguising how crazy he's wondering Crane is, but once they're sure there's no blood, Jenny's laugh fills the kitchen. It's been long enough since Abbie heard that, she'll call it a win.

Once the last of the dishes are jammed into Abbie's poor overloaded dishwasher, Irving offers to drive Crane back. The four of them pause at the door, an awkward end to a non-double-date, and then that's Irving's car backing out of the driveway.

Jenny flops down in Abbie's favorite chair. "That was fun," she says with a sardonic flip of her hand. Jenny's like that. She never gives anything away, not even now, not that she liked sharing the meal, not that she enjoyed the company of their friends, nothing.

Abbie sits opposite, resting her feet. It's been a long day, a long month, a long life. She can't remember the last time things were what she'd consider normal. Before Corbin died? No, she was headed off to Quantico, and every part of that process had eaten her life. Now the FBI seems a silly, distant dream, like the times she used to pretend to be a princess with the last of the toilet paper streaming behind her on her head, or when she wished she could grow up to be a cowboy. She spent her time wanting to be Agent Scully, the last dream to fizzle out.

Her mind drifts. She's got a cop car, kind of. Cop lights. Cop shocks. Cop brakes. Jenny's the one with the prison record. They're building their little band of fighters for the light, one broken instrument of the Lord at a time, and of course lest she forget, Abbie Mills is in fact on a mission from God.

She ought to find herself some cool sunglasses.

Jenny smirks at her, practically reading her thoughts through the air. She leans back, closing her eyes. "You are not as cool as you think you are," she announces.

"As long as I'm cooler than you."

Jenny's full of turkey and too sleepy to bite back. It's a nice look on her, calm and restful. Usually her sister looks like she's poised for flight or fisticuffs, or both. Tonight she's paused. Abbie wants to keep her this way, protect her from the evil she can feel choking in day by day, but Jenny's a warrior. No one can stop her from fighting. The best Abbie can do for her is to give her a good fight, watch her back when she inevitably gets too deep, and when the time comes, face the music together.


End file.
